


Concentration

by F1_rabbit



Category: Actor RPF
Genre: M/M, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-08 06:48:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8834569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/F1_rabbit/pseuds/F1_rabbit
Summary: You've been having trouble in classes, and uni have been kind enough to arrange some extra support, but you're not convinced that it's going to help.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [writtenfripperies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/writtenfripperies/gifts).



When you told uni that you needed a little extra help with your art history class, you didn't expect them to find a teaching assistant to help you. You were just looking for a little extra time to complete assignments, but since they're offering, you'll take all the help that you can get.

You're sitting in an empty room when he walks in, Anton, the super-hot teaching assistant that makes you blush every time that your eyes meet.

He looks at you with a smile that makes your skin tingle in anticipation, he asks your name and you're so flustered that you can't even remember it. He comes across to stand in front of you and as you look up at his scruffy hair you gulp at the impressive figure towering over you.        

After you're finished staring at each other you blurt out your whole name, before telling him that he can call you by your first name, and the way he pronounces it makes you lick your lips, an involuntary reflex but he watches your tongue with an intent fascination.

He asks what you need a hand with as you squirm in your seat, trying to position yourself so that the ever growing bulge in your jeans is obscured by the desk.

"I've been having trouble concentrating," you say, the fact that he's now the main thing that's stopping you focusing seems ironic.

"I can help you with that," he says, and he twists as though he's going to get something out of his bag. Maybe one of those garish revision sheets or those horrible guides to being an efficient student, if any of them actually worked you'd be professor by now.

He slinks out of his bag, allowing it to fall on the floor as he extends a hand to you, beckoning you out of your seat without a word. The speed with which you stand brings a wry smile to his face, like a master who's pleased with his pet.

You're taller than him but even though you're looking down on him doesn't change the fact that he's clearly in control here.

"I think I've got just what you need," he says, and with that he's closing the distance between you and leaning in for a kiss.

You gasp as he approaches, you're unused to having anyone interested in you, and he stops only millimetres away from your lips, waiting for you to relax.

"It's okay," he whispers, and the way he says your name makes your knees go weak and you throw your arms around his shoulders. When your lips meet it sends an electric jolt through your body and you're arching your body into his without a second thought. His arm slides around the small of your back as he breaks the kiss to nuzzle at the side of your neck, you want to moan out loud but the walls are flimsy and you try to hold it in, resulting in a strange whining sound, a wordless plea for more.

He grabs your arse and lifts you up, your legs curling around his waist out of an instinctive need to have your bodies close. You feel small as he carries you to the desk, setting you down with a kiss to your forehead and he grins as he unbuttons your jeans. You arch your back so that he can slide them off and he stares in appreciation. When you fidget he places a hand on your hip, although this time it's not him that's making you twitch but the slight cold of the desk on your now bare cheeks.

He grins up at you before taking your whole length into his mouth, the warmth is overwhelming and you lay back on the desk, legs resting on his shoulders, as you cover your face with your hands, unable to believe your luck.

You're moaning that you're about to come but he doesn't stop, he moves quicker, his mouth greedy for your cock and he swallows it all down as he moans around you.

There's a moment of peace, you're unable to open your eyes as the aftershocks of the orgasm rip through you, leaving your heart racing and your toes twitching.

You hear the sound of a drawer being opened and when you peer down he's rooting through it before opening a little hatch and pulling out lube and a condom. The sight of it all makes you moan in anticipation, you're still hard and he lubes up your cock, languid strokes lulling you into a state of calm. You're so relaxed that when you feel a finger teasing at your hole you automatically tense.

"Relax," he says, before kissing along your thigh, "just breathe."

As you take a deep breath he enters you, finger heading straight for your prostate, the feeling is so overwhelming that you're not sure if you want more or not, but as he slides a second finger in, it pushes you over the edge and you're writhing on the desk, come spilling onto your chest as you arch your hips, trying to fuck yourself on his fingers, biting on your lip to stop from screaming out in pleasure.

He makes a content hum as he withdraws his fingers, you gasp at the loss but the crinkle of a foil wrapper tells you that you're not going to be left open and vulnerable for long, that he's preparing to fill you. You lift your head of the desk just enough to see that he's thick and long, and you growl at the thought of having it all inside you.          

He slides you to the edge of the desk, lining you up as you wrap your long legs around his waist. You want to scream for him to get on with it, but you take a deep breath and he takes this as his cue, sliding in as his free hand strokes the side of your face, encouraging you to look at him. He feels massive and yet you're sure that you can take him all, that you want it all. You can't see what you look like, eyes wide and mouth slack but the loving way he looks at you makes you feel like the most beautiful creature in the world.

You're so lost in your thoughts that it's not until he moves to pull you up for a kiss that you realise he's completely inside you and as his soft lips offer you tender kisses he starts to thrust with gentle movements.

Each time he slides back in he's nudging that spot and you want to tell him to stop, to make it last longer but it's overridden by the part of your brain that wants, needs, this release. You're slumped against him and murmuring tiny words of encouragement as he picks up his pace.

The warm feeling builds and you end up limp in his arms, gasping and sated, allowing him to take care of you. He's riding out his own orgasm as you clench around him and he's whispering sweet nothings, praising you and your youthful exuberance.

As your breathing returns to normal your mind feels clearer and you wonder how he knew this is what you needed, and if he'd be willing to help you for the rest of the year.

**Author's Note:**

> *and obviously none of this actually happened, it is all a figment of my twisted imagination ;)


End file.
